Chapter 5 - The fractured memory
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Rosa stared at Dante, her mind violently rejecting the information.
"That's impossible," Rosa said, her voice shaking. "I grew up in an orphanage in Brooklyn. My mother died when I was seven. I don't have a sister."
Dante’s hand dropped from her cheek, but he didn't step away. He remained close, his intense masculine presence anchoring her in the spinning room. "Your mother didn't die of a sickness, Rosa. She was caught in the crossfire of a syndicate war. Elena was eighteen. You were seven. Elena took you and ran, hiding you in the church orphanage to keep you off the cartel's radar. She changed your last name."
Rosa leaned against the mahogany desk, gripping the edge to keep her knees from buckling. The lullaby. The song from the locked room. It wasn't a coincidence. It was her sister, singing the only song they both remembered from their mother.
"Why didn't she come back for me?" Rosa asked, a tear finally spilling over her lashes.
"She tried," Dante said quietly. "After I married her, we spent millions looking for you. But the priest who took you in had moved you to a different state to protect you. We only found you six months ago. By then, Elena's mind was already gone from the poison."
"You brought me here," Rosa realized, looking up at the terrifying mafia boss. "I didn't apply for this job. You orchestrated it."
"I promised my wife I would find her sister and keep her safe," Dante said, his voice hardening back into the cold, controlled boss. "You are under my protection now, Rosa. But you cannot tell Elena who you are. The shock would destroy what is left of her mind."
Suddenly, the heavy doors of the study rattled as someone knocked aggressively.
"Boss," a bodyguard’s muffled voice came through the wood. "Don Salieri is here. The elders are waiting in the dining hall."
Dante’s expression instantly turned to stone. He buttoned his black vest, adjusting his collar to hide the tattoos on his chest. The vulnerable, mourning husband was gone, replaced entirely by the lethal head of the Falcone family.
"Go to the servant quarters," Dante ordered, his tone clipping. "Lock the door. Do not let Sophia out. Salieri is a dangerous man, and he has always suspected Elena is still alive."
Rosa nodded, quickly slipping out of the study through a side door. She ran up the back stairs, her mind a chaotic storm of revelations. She was the sister-in-law to the most feared mafia boss in New York. The woman behind the door was her own flesh and blood.
She burst into her room, expecting to see Sophia playing on the floor.
The room was empty.
Rosa’s blood ran cold. "Sophia?" she called out, checking the small bathroom. Nothing.
She ran back into the hallway, her panic rising to a fever pitch. If Sophia wandered into the grand dining hall while the syndicate elders were meeting...
Rosa sprinted toward the main house. As she reached the grand marble balcony overlooking the dining hall, she froze in absolute horror.
Down below, seated at a massive mahogany table, were a dozen of the most dangerous, scarred men in the criminal underworld. At the head of the table sat Dante, pouring a glass of wine for Don Salieri, an old, ruthless man with a calculating gaze.
And standing right next to Don Salieri’s chair, completely fearless, was Sophia.
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But that wasn't what made Rosa’s heart stop. Clutched in Sophia’s tiny hand, dragged across the polished floor, was a heavy, solid gold key. It was the master key to the east wing.
"Well, Dante," Don Salieri said, his raspy voice echoing in the silent hall as he looked down at the three-year-old girl. "Who is this little angel? And where did she find the key to a dead woman's room?"
